


Hades and Persephone, but lesbian

by Denistamine



Series: Ancient Myths, but.. [2]
Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: F/F, Female Hades/Female Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Hades is a female, How Do I Tag, I'm Bad At Tagging, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Hellenistic Religion & Lore)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 08:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18961150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denistamine/pseuds/Denistamine
Summary: Greek mythology lacks lesbians and I am here to fix it.Hades swirls the deep scarlet wine in her crystal glass when a sudden earthquake surprises her, the glass falling onto the floor and shatters just where lies now one of the prettiest creature she had the chance to lay an eye upon.Hades in an instant knows she is utterly and heavenly fucked.





	Hades and Persephone, but lesbian

**Author's Note:**

> Hey this is my very first fiction on this website and my very first fiction in a very very long time, please be kind and review to help me improve as a writer!

Hades swirls the deep scarlet wine in her crystal glass when a sudden earthquake surprises her, the glass falling onto the floor and shatters just where lies now one of the prettiest creature she had the chance to lay an eye upon. 

 

Red scatters the beauty’s white garnement, tainting it with a bloody gore that sips between her fingers, drooling languish and thick between her tan fingers. The queen of the dead is entranced, and it is only when the beauty’s green eyes flutter open, and a pink tongue dashes out to collect the sticky remanence of a few pomegranate grain on her plump red lips made sticky by the juices of the fruit, that Hades in an instant knows she is utterly and heavenly fucked. 

 

“Where am I?”, she asks, her voice warm and tingly down Hades’ cold spine like the warm sun from above, and when she lays a confused, lazy eye on her it is a sunburnt on her skin and a flush of pigment runs to her gaunt cheeks.

 

“In the underworld, and here, I am the Lord.” she answers her mouth still dry, and then with a smirk “Make yourself comfortable dear, it is now your home too.”

 

Immediately the laziness flushes out of her eyes into a rage and fury of blonde hair and white clothes, so rare in the dark bleak underworld, jumps back to her feet and dashes towards her throne. 

 

“My home? My home is above with my mother and her maidens!”

 

“Your mother?” Hades quirks her brow before the cold flush of realization runs down her body like a skinny dip in the Styx. But all she does is state in a plain voice, “You’re the daughter of Demeter, the lady of the Spring.”

 

A cocky huff answers her. 

 

“Well, Maid of the Spring and Sunshine, you will now leave your flowers and giggles behind as you are now my godly companion in the deepest part of Hades.”

 

“But—“ the maiden starts, abrupt, “I cannot stay for the love of my Lord Zeus, I have to—“

 

“So go the rules of the Underworld young lady, you ate the seeds, you know the laws. And here lies only a ruling command, for I am the Lord down where the sun never shines.”

 

And she looks up to her, eyes full of tearful pleases, wobbling lip bitten red between her ivory teeth, and Hades almost cries out of despair because gods, gods should never plead. Part of her, the one blessed by Athena’s wisdom, knows the maid is playing her, but somewhere her frozen heart melts in the sight of the sun of Springtime bending so nicely of her own will under her glaze and passion wins.

 

Too nicely, so nicely she does not recognize her own voice, Hades asks but does not inquire:

 

“What is your name, my maid, for that the six month you will have to spend here a name will make our matters easier when enchanting each other.”

 

“What’s in a name, my Lord, for which a rose by any other name will still smell as sweet?” she talks back, _talks back,_ the little brat to the Queen of the Underworld and still as she remains cold as ever in front of the affront Hades cannot for the love of all Gods from above and down bring herself to be displeased by her answer.

 

“Then _maiden_ of Spring, here you will be only known as Kore.”

 

Kore shoots her an appalled look, but says no more before storming out, scaring a few gargoyles above the tapestries as she slams the heavy doors of the throne room with herculean force. 

 

 _What a woman_ , sighs Hades, before summoning a spirit to clean up the red mess of sweet wine and sticky pomegranate on the floor.

* * *

 

 

“You know, eventually we will have to interact in our cohabitation, so why not start by looking at your Lord in her eyes?”

 

Kore does not mutter a word, and continue to poke around her food with a pouting lip of distaste. 

 

“Are gods not allowed to use their tongues above, or were the rumors of Apollo’s romances mere lies of giggling nymphs?”

 

A snort. Better than nothing, and Hades doesn’t push, does not insist, because the Goddess of the Underworld never insists. All her life has been nothing but taking and not asking, because she knows fate. And here fate brings upon her doorstep a virgin goddess from above, all pretty in her white dress of fresh smelling linen, sun kissed and skin glistening like pure gold, flowers— _lilies_ and that Hades known is a sign, it must be— in her blond long hair, and face that shames Aphrodite’s.

 

Half way through the courses, delicious delicacies that do not pale from the banquets of Olympus as here in the Underworld everything flourishes or dies as long as Hades wants them to, Kore stands up and prepares to leave, without a word or look to her. Whispers of indignation elevates from the gargoyles above on the ceiling, no one walks past the Lord without paying their respects, and seeing the expectation of her status played by the crowd Hades has to act, and she bites, perhaps a little harder that she intended to:

 

“Do you aspire to walk around my domain the Underworld without saying a word to their Lord?”

 

“Six months and I will never see you again, my Lord, for a mortal it is an eternity, but for us my Lord half a year is nothing but a painfully slow blink of the eyes. I am sure you must know.” Kore nothing but snarls back, her tone so ugly in a pretty mouth.

 

“Eventually, you will be here longer than half a year.” 

 

“You said six months!” she shouts, a flail of fabric following her fleet of anger. 

 

She is like spring storms, short of temper and hot, and Hades that knows no better than the cold constancy of death is impressed by how easily this minor goddess manages to get under her skin with the simple furrow of her delicate brow-line. She is only a breath away from Hades’ face, so close she can feel the sunshine kiss from where her body lies.

 

“Six months of each year. For the rest of time.” she announces, solemn still.

 

And this time when warmth hits Hades it is the hot tears that prickles down Kore’s cheeks onto the Lord’s clothes.

* * *

 

For weeks Hades does not see Kore again, the maiden sorely avoiding her in the warren of the dead palace, and Hades finds herself running after her sight longing and love-sick like a shadow after the sun. But Kore is nowhere to be found, until finally when a month passes and only five are left this year with such charming company in the lone underworld she sees her again.

 

She is like a mirage, gaunt and pale from starving herself by not attending the meals and sending those the spirits took to her back untouched, the ashen color of her dress turning dark where it flushes around the floor of the dark house of the dead, so ethereal that at first Hades does not recognizes her. 

 

Yet, she still smells like s swirl of gillyflowers and lemongrass, and something warmer and more delicate even, like rainy grass under sunshine, and her eyes are the color of wild forrest with a hint of blue summer sky. She looks nothing like the Underworld, nothing like Hades with her skin so pale it runs blue, hands colder than the dead’s, purple lips, long stern face with very little expression and eyes so dark you can not discern the pupil. Nothing about Kore belongs here, she is bitterly reminded, and soon enough she will leave, and will always leave again and again.

 

She is a prisoner here, it was her prerogative to be acting as one naturally. However, never once was it the intention of the Queen of the dead. Maybe her brother Zeus was right, she is nothing but an eternal awkward bachelor in the family of players, a social outcast from Olympus that cannot make her guest understand her own status as one.

 

Kore lingers for the moment of a thought, before fleeing again, head down, and lilies fading in her hair.

* * *

 

After that, Kore comes back always, just for the hint of a second like an apparition in the dark corners of the palace, so much Hades finds herself asking if she isn’t a ghost. A silly thought, as gods do not die. 

 

Every time a question is longing on the tip of her tongue, Hades can tell, and so is Hades’ salutations. Both, it seems have so much to say that the wild swirl of words strangles their breath away and they stay, like two teenage mortals staring at each other without a word and always parting a second before any of them can get a sound out of their gasping lips.

 

Overtime, Hades becomes accustomed to their peculiar encounters, sadness in her heart growing as she sees the maid’s health fading away each time, but gleeful that she got to see her guest at least. 

 

One day, about half time through Kore’s time in Hades’, a spirit appears and claims the gardens were flourishing at their best. 

 

It startled Hades at first, for she did not intend to make anything grow as much, but her divine powers were attached to her heart and as the sentiment of longing for spring grew, so did literal spring in the gardens of Hades’. She is the place as much as she is the Lord ruler of the place, a bizarre symphony that no mortal logic could make sense of, but that had been her life since the draw that gave her power over the Underworld.

 

“Fetch our guest.” she commands, “It is half her doing after all.”

 

“If I did not know any better my Lord, I would have guess that you have come to care for the child.”

 

“Not a child, my minion, she is the maiden goddess of Spring.”

 

“Yes my Lord, of course my Lord.”

 

And just like that he is gone, and a second later Kore appears in the throne room, just as disheveled but way thinner and paler than three months ago.

 

“Is this a game of yours my Lord, picking up random maidens out of their daily activities to drop them unceremoniously in front of your throne?” she quirks up, as harsh and brash as always and Hades smiles, _smiles fondly,_ like she was listening to an old inside joke.

 

“Or perhaps you just like to see me on my knees on the cold floor down here, while you are all sat up on that mighty throne of yours, _my Lord_.” she purrs, toying with a flyaway lock of blonde hair.

 

Hades blushes but remains impassible.

 

“I wanted to show you something.” she stands up and walks without a look back, but she can feel Kore’s burning curiosity on her, and soon enough she hears light footsteps on her clacking heels.

 

A few chambers later, she pushes a light glass of dark obsidian glass and reveals the beautiful gardens of Hades, flourishing with a thousand flowers of all seasons, as there are no rules of the seasons down under. Demeter does not rule here, Hades smirks mentally, a little pinch of spite against the painfully hen-like mother of her beautiful guest. It was no secret, even so to Kore, that her mother had been causing a ruckus up in Olympus ever since her daughter was gone. But Kore had never mentioned it, and so Hades will not, maybe a itty bit too happy about it.

 

“You have a garden?” Kore whispers, watching the flow of water lilies floating whimsically through a small pond. She reaches down and with the tip of her finger the corm blooms into a perfect flower.

 

She is life, thinks Hades, sour taste spring from the back of her mind as Kore performs her magic of blooming cherries and lilas.

 

They stay a little longer, not even a quarter of an hour, before Kore flushes past her towards the glass gates, and when their shoulders brush she wishes her goodnight.

* * *

 

A week later, a very long week where Hades had no further account of her guest for the entire time again, Kore comes to her of her free will and asks:

 

“May I see the gardens again?”

 

From that day, Hades appoints her Warden of the Garden of Hades’, and each day she visits Kore silently while she occupies herself with blooming floras and dipping her feet and long hair in the freshness of the pond.

 

Never the garden had looked better before.

 

* * *

 

Kore now comes to dinner again. Although it is still an unique meal in the day, Hades is internally overjoyed. The gargoyles less so, as she still defies her Lord with childish spite but none of them make their issues vocal anymore. 

 

They do not speak much usually, but Hades does ask about her day and Kore indulgently gives brief but polite answers, and every time she sends her way with her whisper of a goodnight that makes Hades’ heart flutter.

 

One day though, Kore asks:

 

“How many lovers have you had?”

Hades almost chokes on her bite, and she can feel the scarlet blood burning up her neck.

 

“It’s been so long, I cannot be the only guest you ever had.”  Kore pushes without a word about breaking the Queen’s impassible facade. “Or maybe,” she tries a little shy, a dash of her pink tongue wetting her lips, “Are you not interested in the fairer type?”

 

Hades marvels at Kore’s words. 

 

Later that night, Hades bed is warm and Kore is maiden no more.

* * *

 

“I will leave.” Kore— no, _Persephone_ , her Persephone— states not stopping a second in her task of braiding her lover’s dark hair, “Over and over again.”

 

“Yes, you will.” Hades simply answers without a stutter, but her heart skips a painful beat. She is sure Persephone felt that, as she whispers, caressing a few strand of wild hair out of Hades’ cheek:

 

“But I’ll come back. Ever and ever again.”

 

“Yes, you will.” Hades says again, pressing her head more against the blonde’s soft breast.

 

“For the rest of time.” she echoes what the Queen once said, the first time they’ve met.

 

But this time, it sounds like a promise.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!


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